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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25224181">Down the River</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/'>Anonymous</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hamilton - Miranda</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Drabble, Drabble Sequence, F/M, M/M, The Crane Wives, lots of tags to come. just you wait</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 01:59:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>800</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25224181</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"You were never the one to suffer."</p><p>(This is a series of drabbles, which come together to tell an interconnected story.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alexander Hamilton/Angelica Schuyler, Alexander Hamilton/Elizabeth "Eliza" Schuyler, Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Anonymous</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. the bell tower</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Thanks so much for reading! </p><p>Please leave a comment and tell me your theories, scream at me, etc. It keeps me going.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The papers fluttered over the streets of the town, blowing down the cobblestone streets in the gusty fall breezes. A mourning dove plucked a few pieces of paper from the dust and flew up into the trees, intending to use them to shore up its nest. The papers originated from the church bell tower, where John Laurens was throwing them off the roof. He tore another page out of the journal (each page was slightly tear-stained and covered entirely with words, poems and essays and economic papers, the product of months of work) and let it blow into the wind.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. the window</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>A paper fluttered through the open window into Eliza’s bedroom. Although the paper was dusty and stained with tears in places, she would have recognized that handwriting anywhere. She didn’t need to read it to know who had written it or to guess its topic. One edge was ragged, as if it had been torn from a journal. What she didn’t know is where it had come from. There were all sorts of people in town who had reason to rip apart </span>
  <em>
    <span>his </span>
  </em>
  <span>work. Eliza would have, but she preferred to burn the things she no longer wanted to see.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. the house</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>A paper blew up to the doorstep of a house standing empty. No one had been inside for almost two weeks; the windows were shuttered and the door was barred, yet inside of the house, all seemed normal. The bed was unmade, papers were strewn across the kitchen table, and a chair was pulled out in front of the ash-filled fireplace. It was as if the house’s sole resident would return any minute, except for the fact that all the food in the cupboard was gone and the knapsack and traveling cloak that usually hung near the door were missing.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. the pillar</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Angelica has had her heart broken before, but never as badly as </span>
  <em>
    <span>he </span>
  </em>
  <span>mangled it. She loves her sister more than anything; Eliza is one of the pillars that holds up her universe, so as soon as she realized how much Eliza wanted him, Angelica stepped back and tried to convince herself she didn’t need romance.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I should have known he couldn’t be trusted, </span>
  </em>
  <span>she thinks to herself when she learns that he’s gone. </span>
  <em>
    <span>If I hadn’t set him up with Eliza, he might have led both of us on. He played with two people; he could have managed three.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. the mayor</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Washington doesn’t know why he’s surprised when his best worker doesn’t show up for a week. He’s pulled stunts like this before, and always emerged from the depths of his house with a thousand new ideas about how best to settle the month’s new disputes between the miners and the townspeople. Washington has never been a more effective mayor than with him as an assistant. But when he isn’t there the second week, he’s forced to admit that his favorite employee, who he thinks of as almost a son, has left the town of Lirrenville for greener (or wealthier) pastures.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. the steamship</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The river runs past the town, and boats sail up and down it day and night. The captains of the steamships don’t ask who you are or why you’re leaving; the only thing they care about is that you have enough to pay your way. Alexander had saved enough from his job as the mayor’s assistant to easily acquire passage up the river. There were always new towns popping up along the banks of the Kenotte, and he was sure he’d know the next right place when he found it. He could start again, where no one knew his secrets.</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. the bank</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Killenstown is almost the same as Lirrenville. It takes him two days to find a job. He doesn’t enjoy working as a bank teller, but he’s confident he can rise up the ranks quite quickly. He stays at an inn for just over a week before another teller named Thomas, whom he’d charmed quite easily, asks him to stay in his spare bedroom.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In Killenstown, he is without a reputation. This time around, he projects himself as a loudmouth, shouting down idiots in the town square and making no effort to keep his opinions hidden. He’s glad he started over.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. the fountain</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A cold wind blows across the square in Lirrenville, picking up leaves and flinging them at the feet of John Laurens, who is sitting on the edge of the fountain and staring up at the sky as if answers are written there.</p><p>Eliza crosses the square and sits down next to him. It takes him almost five minutes to notice her presence. When he does, he’s briefly startled.</p><p>“Elizabeth Schuyler? Why are you here?”</p><p>She gives him a jarringly friendly smile. “I just wanted to talk to you.”</p><p>He blinks, processing, then smiles back. “Walk with me?”</p><p>“Oh, of course.”</p>
  </div></div>
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